


Man-Eater

by trash_heap



Series: Mob Boss Kara [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Luther deserves better, Slow Burn, Violence, Who Knows?, at least not yet, kara gets shit done, no beta we die like men, this isn't a romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 20:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18746284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_heap/pseuds/trash_heap
Summary: Kara stands over Zlatko’s body, breathing hard as his still warm blood drips down her upheld hands. The greasy man lies on the very expensive rug in his study, grasping his throat and gurgling. She watches him start to crawl away, going nowhere fast, and reflects on how she got to this point.





	Man-Eater

**Author's Note:**

> Rating may be subject to change as the work/series is expanded on. This is unbeta'd and the first fanfiction I've published since I was eleven and producing badly written self-insert, Mary-Sues. D:BH just bit me with the bug, and Kara/Luther stole my heart. 
> 
> Of course, I own nothing recognizable. Everything belongs to Rabid Cabbage, apart from any decent writing.

Kara stands over Zlatko’s body, breathing hard as his still warm blood drips down her upheld hands. The greasy man lies on the very expensive rug in his study, grasping his throat and gurgling. She watches him start to crawl away, going nowhere fast, and reflects on how she got to this point.

-

Kara stares at the community TV in silent fury. She’d gotten to the room just as the space freed up and snatched the best armchair, the one with no springs poking out. Her knees are tucked under her chin where she sits holding onto her legs. A young boy, probably not even eighteen, reaches to change the channel and Kara barks, “Leave it!”

He jumps and scurries off. She feels bad for a moment, but it passes. Why no one else is paying attention to the fact that the news hasn’t said a single thing about the homeless disappearing from shelters is beyond her. She watches for another ten minutes before walking off in a huff, the boy watching her leave. Shrugging into her coat, she stalks out the front doors. If the cops won’t do anything, she’ll have to try.

People have been going missing for months in Detroit, all of them homeless, all of them regulars at the same shelter. Kara had seen them stop coming in, one by one. Last night made the fifth day that week that Jerry hadn’t met her for dinner at the soup kitchen. Jerry never missed a check in. He and Kara had been friends for two years, always taking care of each other when they could. He would never have run off without telling her. When she’d tried to report this to the police, she’d nearly been laughed out of the station by a detective with a nasty looking scar on his nose. His voice and attitude had made her so angry, she didn’t have to wonder how he got it. An older man, the Lieutenant, had snapped at the detective and spoken much more gently to Kara. While he told her almost the same thing, he clearly felt bad about it.

“Listen,” he’d said, leading her out of the station, “if you’ve got any solid proof of foul play, you should bring it straight to us. Otherwise, I don’t think we’ll be able to help.”

After Lieutenant Anderson had left her, she’d stood on the sidewalk, fighting back tears. Jerry was the only friend she had. She couldn’t just give up on him. Kara scrubbed at her eyes, trying to remember what Jerry had been telling her about earlier in the week when she saw him last. 

“There’s rumors about a guy willing to hire help, no background checks or permanent addresses needed. It’s under the table work, but I’ve heard it’s really good money.” He’d looked hopeful, eyes lighting up like she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Jer, that sounds sketchy. Who is this guy?” Kara had hedged, cautious.

What  _ was _ his name? Jerry had told her but it sounded odd. Definitely not American, maybe Russian? If she could just find the guy who’d told him about this mysterious employer, she’d go from there. 

-

It took less time than she thought to find the source of the rumor. Putting on her polite, customer service face, she’d quietly inserted herself into conversations at the shelter, asking if anyone knew of a place she could find a job. Several people only knew the barest of rumors, like Jerry had told her. Further digging brought her to the teenager she’d shouted away from the television.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” She says, once he motions for her to sit at the table.

“It’s okay,” he said, not making eye contact, “I get it. TV time is important.”

“What’s your name?”

“William. Not Will, William.”

“Nice to meet you, William. I’m Kara.” She smiled at him, trying to look as soft and approachable as possible. The kid finally looked her in the eyes.

“Y-you were friends with Jerry, right? We worked trash clean up for that Manfred guy. Paid an okay gig.”

“Did Jerry ever tell you about trying to find a job somewhere else? He mentioned some guy to me, and I’d like to apply myself.”

The kid squinted at her, “Are you talking about Zlatko?”

“Yes,” Kara said, hiding her surprise, “Do you know where I can find him?”

“Uh, yeah. Here, hand me that napkin. I can draw you a map.”

Once he’d finished, he handed it over to Kara. She glances over it, and sighs. “That’s on the other side of the city. It’ll be dark by the time I get there.”

“Don’t worry,” William said, an odd tone she couldn’t quite place creeping into his voice, “Zlatko’s doors are always open.”

-

“I believe the phrase is ‘he bled like a stuck hog.’” Says a deep, quiet voice from the doorway.

Kara whips her head up, tightening her slick grip on the knife. The larger than life man who had greeted her at the door, Luther, was now blocking the doorway of the study, watching as his employer struggles at his feet. Zlatko is reaching up, trying to speak through his severed vocal chords. He drags himself forward, but before he can grab Luther’s pant leg, the man steps back. Zlatko’s hand thunks to the ground and his body begins to twitch, the sounds getting quieter. Luther finally breaks eye contact with Kara and she releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. The big man leans down, jerks his employer’s leg so he’s sideways on the rug, and begins to roll him into it. In her nervous state, Kara’s mind helpfully supplies the idea of pigs in a blanket and she makes a mental note to never eat them again.

“I’ll need to call the cleaners,” Luther says, standing up again. “Do you intend on staying?”

“I came here to find my friend.” Kara says, and she’s proud of the way her voice doesn’t waver.

“Alright, one moment.”

Luther steps around her, giving her a wide berth, and reaches for the old fashioned rotary dial phone on the desk. Kara has turned her full attention on him, watching as he dials, fingers almost too big for the holes. Her head is swimming, trying to process everything, not quite able to pay attention to what he’s saying to whoever is on the other side. After a few moments of quiet muttering, Luther hangs up. He starts toward Kara and she steps back, crouching into an attack stance and gripping the knife, heart thudding painfully in her chest. She could kill Zlatko because he was fat and slow and stupid. She isn’t sure how much of a chance she has against a man as large as Luther.

He holds his hands up and freezes, mid step. He doesn’t speak. Kara tries to control her breathing. She doesn’t want him to be able to hear how afraid she is. Her face is schooled into a look of defiant rage. She didn’t come this far to be stopped now.

“I do not want to hurt you. Zlatko was a bad man. I would like to help you, if you’ll let me.” Luther says.

Kara’s face scrunches up in confusion, even as she lowers her blade and relaxes her stance. “Why would you help me?”

Luther shrugs, and when Kara doesn’t speak, he elaborates. “I hated him, and so did everyone else here.”

“There are others?” She says, sharply. She glances to the door.

“I am the only...employee. But there are a great many ‘playthings’ of Zlatko’s still imprisoned here.”

“Take me to them.” Kara demands.

Luther looks pointedly at her bloody hands and clothes. “In your state, you will terrify them. They will assume you work for Zlatko, and they will never trust you.”

“I don’t have a choice!”

“There are clothes that might fit you,” he ventures, taking a slow step forward, “If you get cleaned up a little, I will take you to them.”

Kara’s body sags as she nods. The sudden adrenaline rush has started to crash and the blood has gotten sticky on her skin and clothes. She allows Luther to slip the knife from her hand and set it on the desk. She doesn’t even protest when he places one of those massive, warm hands on her back to guide her down the hallway. Luther shows her to an ensuite bathroom and she plops onto the toilet. Watching Luther heat the water for a bath makes her realize that she feels strangely safe with this man. It’s almost as if she’s known him before.

“You just watched me kill your boss. Why are you doing this?”

Luther doesn’t look at her as he runs the hot water for a bath. He remains quiet as Kara stares him down while he adds bath salts. When the tub is half full, he finally turns around. “Zlatko wasn’t a boss. He was a task master. Ask anyone down in the dungeons and they’ll tell you the same. The only reason I’m not down there with them is because I was strong and obedient. Have you heard of the medical experiments the Nazis conducted in World War Two?” At her slow nod he continues, “Zlatko was fascinated with them. He wanted to make his own breakthroughs, although his actions were more dominated by a twisted need to play god and make money off of it than any semblance of scientific discovery.”

“He was a scientist?”

“Hardly. He was a monster, more than anyone downstairs. You’ll see.” He turns to turn off the tap, “I will leave your clothes on the bed. Take all the time you need.”

Luther leaves without looking back at Kara, shutting the bathroom door behind him with a quiet click. Kara sits on the toilet for a few more moments, staring after him. Her mind is buzzing with a thousand different thoughts. How will they get these people out? How will she explain this to the cops? What happens if Zlatko’s “business partners” come after her? Kara shakes her head and begins to undress. Despite the whirlwind she’s put herself in, she can’t bring herself to regret killing him. Her only regret is that she hadn’t gutted him like the animal he was. 

Despite the warm comfort of the bath water, and the soothing smell of lavender salts, she scrubs herself as quickly as she can. She steps out of the pink water, her skin rubbed raw, and drapes herself in a fresh smelling robe on a hook nearby. When she pads barefoot into the bedroom, she finds Luther sitting on the bed. His hands are folded neatly in his lap, head down. He does not stir as she approaches. 

“Luther?” Kara asks, gently touching his shoulder.

He flinches, hard, and gasps before clearing his throat to speak, “I’m sorry. This is how Zlatko wanted me to wait for him every night before-” He shies from her touch but meets her gaze, “- I - it’s a habit.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” She says, simply, moving to slip on the provided pants on her robe. Luther turns his face away but she could swear she saw his pupils dilate for a second when he was a flash of her chest through the robe. She smiles to herself as she turns to back to finish dressing. As she finishes tying her shoes she says, “I’d like to see the others.”

“Yes, of course. This way.” Luther moves quickly and silently across the room, opening the door and gesturing down the long hallway. Down, down, down to the deepest basement Kara has ever seen. At the foot of the long stairs is a thick, wooden door with a ring of keys beside it. Luther pulls them down  and pauses with a hand on the door knob, “It won’t be pretty. Some of them are in very bad shape. A few are barely holding on, and some have...well, they’re not all there.”

Kara squares her shoulders, setting her jaw, “They don’t scare me any more than that pissant did.”

A brief smile flickers over the tall man’s face and he opens the door. Once she finds Jerry, thankfully only minorly hurt with a slash on one cheek and a burn on his leg, he directs them in how to care for the others. He’d been there long enough to make friends with almost everyone, and they trust him to lead them. Jerry tells them each prisoner’s name and what their injuries are. Kara and Luther spend the next few hours helping people out of cages and into the upstairs. Luther makes the calls to some business partner of Zlatko’s to bring in as many cots as he could find and medical supplies. They do their best to set up a hospital wing through the first floor. The cleaners who come to collect Zlatko’s body don’t ask questions. Luther knows this will not be kept silent, however, but he wants these people,  _ his _ people to enjoy their freedom. He wants to do what he can to ensure they are never hurt again. Days afterward, Luther pulls Kara aside into the study.

“Kara, do you have a plan? Zlatko’s business partners will hear about this. They will see his house and his ‘assets’ as free to whoever can take them.”

Kara gives him a hard, thoughtful look. “I think I could do this.”

“Do what?”

“This. The mob.” 

Luther recoils, lip curling in disgust. “You want to do what Zlatko did? After all you’ve seen?”

“Yes and no,” she says, holding his gaze, “I can take his place. No one but you and I know what’s happened. We can spin a story about how I’m a rival and challenged him. Forge documents that say he lost everything in a gambling problem and I killed him when he wouldn’t pay up.”

Luther stares at her, well aware of his mouth hanging open. “And what would you do with his assets, then? Turn us back into servants and playthings?”

She gives him a sharp look, “I thought you knew me better than that, Luther.” Kara’s face softens as she sees him flinch at her harsh tone, “I won’t let anyone hurt you again. Any of you.”

In a split second, he’s across the room and squeezing her ribs in a bone crushing hug. She laughs as her toes hover above the ground for a moment. When he lets her go, she grabs his forearms to keep him close, and he carefully settles his hands on her hips.

“Will you help me?” She asks, and Luther knows he’ll never leave her side.

“Of course, boss. Where do we start?”


End file.
